


Drowning

by Sapphylicious



Category: Dragon Kishi-dan | Dragon Knights
Genre: Death Wish, Dreams, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-21
Updated: 2014-01-21
Packaged: 2018-01-09 12:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1146133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sapphylicious/pseuds/Sapphylicious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The alchemist appeared sometimes in his dreams</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drowning

The alchemist appeared sometimes in his dreams. There was no rhyme or reason to it; they weren't particularly strange dreams and they weren't connected, as far as Rath could tell. One minute he'd be in the middle of whatever he was doing – usually killing a demon or several, and Kharl would just be there, like he had every right to be. Sometimes his entrance was accompanied by a flashy display, a brilliant light or a scattering of feathers, but not always. His inconsistency was rather rude. Rath didn't care if the man haunted his dreams or not, but he could at least be civil about it.

Maybe it wasn't really Kharl though. Perhaps it was only the image of the man, conjured up by Rath's own subconscious. He'd asked once (yes, they conversed, but sometimes Rath would just ignore him and nothing ever happened) and Kharl-or-not-Kharl had only said with some amusement, "What do _you_ think?"

Rath had tried to hit him, but ended up striking air.

This time he was on a beach, and unsurprisingly, the shore was dotted with the ravaged corpses of a dozen or so demons. It was sunny out, kind of nice and warm, and Rath grinned a slightly maniacal grin, all gleaming fangs and blood-stained cheeks. A wave broke and surged up to swirl around his ankles, coming in clean and clear and leaving with clouds of red. Bits of monster gore were pushed and pulled around by the water.

He trudged through it all, boots sucked into sand with each clumsy footstep, splashing up to his knees and wading in to his waist, and further. His sword was heavy in his hand, gripped so tightly it was practically part of his arm. He turned once to look back at the shore, knowing and confirming the sight of Kharl standing there, distant. No talks today. Rath gave a bold salute and let the current yank him under.

He knew it was just a dream, but because of that, he could do whatever he wanted, right? And the mind was a powerful thing, or so he'd heard. If he drowned here, would he wake up? Would he die? There burn in his chest was familiar, and when reflex made him try to breathe he choked on a mouthful of salt water. Maybe he could die a thousand deaths in his dreams. Nobody would stop him.

Well, that meddling bastard apparently thought he could. _No_ , Rath thought, angrily willing his would-be savior away, _Don't save me. Go away, just this once, leave me alone._

A slender white hand reached out and grasped him by the wrist. Kharl was a pale, billowing cloud in the water, a vision out of focus. Rath couldn't discern his expression, but he imagined it was smug and stubborn. He couldn't shake him off, and despite the resistance of the water he struggled violently. His blade flashed brighter than the scales of the fish that darted away and he was rewarded with the flow of a crimson ribbon. Still, Kharl did not let go. Rath angled his sword differently this time, to sever instead of slash, and through a wreath of dissipating blood he caught sight of the alchemist's face.

Kharl wasn't amused; there wasn't the slightest trace of arrogance or even anger to be found in his features. He was serene, the corners of his mouth curved upwards just a bit, and Rath couldn't distinguish the expression as either happy or sad. It was some combination of both, a melancholy pleasure, because, Rath realized, Kharl was not going to save him.

_Why_ was chased away by _I don't want to die **with** you_ , but the fighting had sapped his energy and he'd wasted more precious time being stunned and stupid and eerily fascinated. He couldn’t tell if he was even holding his sword anymore. As Rath fell into unconsciousness his dream-world didn't fade to black, but instead it became brilliant.


End file.
